Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO OWNED EVERYTHING|
The ballroom doors opened eight minutes later.
A tall woman in a charcoal business suit entered, accompanied by two security officers.
Her name was Vivian Price.
She was the general manager of the Hawthorne Grand, one of Chicago's most prestigious luxury hotels.
Vivian looked at the shattered glasses, the injured waitress, and the elderly woman beside the staircase.
Then she hurried forward.
“Mrs. Whitmore, are you hurt?”
“Not thanks to your banquet manager,” Eleanor replied.
Vivian turned toward Colin.
“Explain.”
Colin cleared his throat.
“There was an unfortunate misunderstanding involving a staff member and the bride.”
Eleanor raised one hand.
“That's an interesting description of attempted negligence and physical assault.”
Madison laughed nervously.
“Excuse me, but why is everybody treating this woman like royalty?”
Vivian stared at her.
“Mrs. Crane, this is Eleanor Whitmore.”
“I know who she is. Ethan's grandmother.”
“No,” Vivian answered. “You apparently don't.”
She opened a leather folder.
“Mrs. Whitmore is the founder and controlling owner of Hawthorne Hospitality Group. This hotel, the adjoining residential tower, and six other luxury properties operate under her company.”
Madison blinked.
Patricia's lips parted.
Vivian continued.
“She also chairs the company's governing trust.”
The ballroom fell completely silent.
Madison stared at the woman in the faded cardigan.
“You own this hotel?”
Eleanor gave a humorless smile.
“Since before you were born.”
A guest near the champagne fountain whispered something.
Within seconds, the whisper spread across the entire room.
Ethan stepped toward his bride.
“Madison, you owe my grandmother an apology.”
Madison looked from Eleanor to the crowd.
Her cheeks flushed.
“Well, obviously, if I'd known—”
Eleanor interrupted.
“If you'd known I was wealthy, you would have treated me like a human being?”
Madison said nothing.
“That,” Eleanor continued, “is precisely the problem.”
Amara lowered her eyes.
She had witnessed plenty of wealthy guests mistreat hotel employees. But never had she watched someone lose control of an entire room so completely.
Eleanor turned toward her.
“Amara, please come here.”
Amara hesitated.
“Ma'am, I'm still working.”
“Not for Colin, you're not.”
Colin swallowed.
“Mrs. Whitmore, I can explain—”
“You will have your opportunity. With security present.”
Eleanor took Amara's hand.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
Amara shook her head.
“I just did what anyone should have done.”
“No,” Eleanor replied softly. “You did what everyone else failed to do.”
Vivian examined Amara's swollen cheek.
“Would you like us to call the police?”
Before Amara could answer, Madison stepped forward.
“You cannot seriously be considering police involvement over one slap!”
Eleanor's expression darkened.
“One slap is still assault.”
She turned to Vivian.
“Preserve every security recording from tonight. Nobody deletes anything.”
Vivian nodded.
“Of course.”
Then Eleanor added something that made Colin turn pale.
“And have maintenance examine my wheelchair. I locked the brakes before I was moved.”
The head of security, Rosa Delgado, crouched beside the chair.
She inspected the left wheel.
Her face changed.
“Mrs. Whitmore?”
“Yes?”
Rosa looked up.
“This brake didn't simply come loose.”
She pointed toward the damaged locking mechanism.
“Someone appears to have deliberately tampered with it.”
May you like
Ethan went completely still.
And Colin Hayes dropped his clipboard.
